


A Galaxy Above

by CompassionAndCaring



Series: Ineffable Love [1]
Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Age Play Little Crowley (Good Omens), Age Regression/De-Aging, Alcohol, Angst, Bathing/Washing, Caring Aziraphale (Good Omens), Crowley Was Raphael Before Falling (Good Omens), Crying, Drunk Crowley (Good Omens), Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Hurt/Comfort, Infantilism, M/M, Mental Regression, Mutual Pining, Non-Sexual Age Play, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Self-Esteem Issues, Self-Hatred, Slow Build, Thumb-sucking, Wetting, Worried Aziraphale (Good Omens)
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-10-22
Updated: 2020-05-15
Packaged: 2020-12-28 02:04:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 5,768
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21128990
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CompassionAndCaring/pseuds/CompassionAndCaring
Summary: Everyone has a few secrets. Some are small, little ones while others are life changing. And if you've been around since the beginning, you're bound to have a few life changing ones.For Crowley, his secrets were being hopelessly in love and also wanting to be taken care of.





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first time writing anything for Good Omens! I hope you all enjoy it as it goes along!
> 
> Please read all the other age play fics within this fandom, they are fantastic and inspired this story.

It’s hard for most to keep secrets for too long. After a few days, weeks, months, or years it starts to eat away at you. Becomes the only thing on your mind until you either blurt it out or let it consume you. 

So, imagine having _ two  _ secrets eating you alive ...difficult, isn’t it?

Now, imagine having one for 6,000 years only for the other to come along about 70 years ago. A real kicker, huh?

The former Crowley was used to tearing at his sheltered, black heart. But the latter was making a meal out of his soul.

He doesn’t exactly remember when it started. Prowling around in the underground of human society led to interesting discoveries. Humans had odd ways of expressing love or passion. Relationships in itself were so complex and multi-layered. So when Crowley learned of the concept of “regression” and having a “caregiver” the occult being was oddly intrigued. 

Of course, when he came to realize he too wished to be ...well, nurtured and loved and all that, Crowley became disgusted with himself. His self-loathing went through the roof (as if it hadn’t already) and he tried to rid himself of these tendencies as much as he could. Wanting to be held, wanting to be taken care of in every possible way, not having to worry about the world for a little while. Being loved by Aziraphale just like the humans he oh so adored.

He was doing a wonderful job of it, keeping his facade of confidence and self-sufficiency. Of course, Aziraphale was as oblivious as they came. Gullible too. It didn’t help the fact that Crowley was so hopelessly in love with the angel. Had been since that fateful day at the gates of Eden. 

“You go too fast for me, Crowley.” 

Those words played in his head even now, reminding the demon of what  _ could _ have been. He knew it was too good to be true. Why would such a holy entity want to be any more than friends? It did make things easier ...sort of. It prevented Aziraphale from seeing the needy, emotional, and nasty parts of who Crowley was. Self-loathing was best done by yourself, right?

However, moments like this were happening more and more often. More and more often would the demon finds himself with his thumb on the edge of his lip or casting wistful glances at cute toys lined in shop windows. What were they like? Where they fun to play with? Maybe in some alternate universe, Crowley would know. 

During one night of incredible said self-loathing, Crowley was curled up under the covers of his dark, cold apartment. When it got like this, the demon allowed himself to snap his fingers and feel a comforting weight take place in his arms. The teddy bear was unnamed currently, with big black eyes and luxuriously soft fur that Crowley often found himself burying his face into. If the gnawing, disgusting feeling in his stomach continued to grow, the serpent allows himself one more miracle. A fuzzy blanket adorned with stars wrapped itself around his shoulders. 

It soaked up tears so well.


	2. Chapter 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Some more self-loathing and regressive tendencies. In other words, Crowley makes things pleasurable for the moment but a little damaging in the long run.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all so much for such lovely feedback and responses to this story! I didn't expect it but it warms my heart nonetheless. My goal is to have a week or less between chapters to give myself both a challenge and enough leeway in case school consumes me.

There was one time, about a decade ago, where Crowley was too far in his headspace to realize his boxers were soaked. He had been laying in bed watching the sunrise and feeling so alone. It didn’t help that he was just wishing for it either to end completely or for someone to say it was all okay. To help him undress and clean up ...maybe even do it the human way without miracles.

  
Remembering this, Crowley felt more tears bubble around the corners of his eyes. If no one else was able or around to see him be pathetic ...then he might as well continue to wallow. The demon could see the stars shine against the inky sky, while the moon hung high and bright. Now that the world was no longer about to end, Crowley felt a bit more at peace knowing all was well.

  
That is, until the serpent felt a digit press against his bottom lip. Sneering at his action, Crowley shoved his hand back in his pocket. The other was twisted in the fabric of his beloved blanket and his grip only grew tighter. Part of him wished to just indulge in a mere act of self-soothing while the other felt nothing but disgust. How could he allow himself to stoop so low?

  
If Hell could see him now, they would surely want to try to bathe him in holy water once again. Or even worse, humiliate him for a few centuries and then kill him. Demons weren’t supposed to feel any soft feelings really unless it was at the cost of someone’s own happiness or life. And they especially weren’t the type to wish to be cuddled, bathed, or suck on a pacifier. But then again, Crowley hadn’t always been a demon.

  
The apartment was quiet as ever and realizing how alone he was, the demon felt his hand come out of his pocket once again. Crowley hid underneath his blanket in shame as he started to suck his thumb. How could something feel so humiliating but comforting at the same time? A fierce blush crept along Crowley’s face as he closed his eyes.

  
He slept for a few days, just like that. Whenever the demon would feel the need to use the bathroom, he simply miracled it away. He wouldn’t have another accident after the last time had been--

  
The answering machine interrupted his recollections.

  
“Crowley!” a familiar voice chimed and the serpent groaned (or rather hissed) before falling back onto the bed, “There’s a simply delightful new place that just opened up and I heard that they make wonderful desserts. If you’re not available, er, at all tonight, I’ll try it myself and tell you what I think. You looked awfully tired the other day so I suspect you’ll be sleeping for the next few months or so. Anywho, have a pleasant rest.”

  
As tempting as it was to spend time with Aziraphale, the occult couldn’t find it in him right now. It wasn’t unusual for Crowley to avoid social excursions that the angel enjoyed so much and Aziraphale knew that. However, what made those excursions bearable was Aziraphale. Even if it made the serpent’s heart beat faster and his stomach drop further. It was a tad bit comforting that the angel also knew he loved to sleep and wasn’t surprised when Crowley would leisurely nap for a year or more.

  
With that knowledge, Crowley ignored the principality’s messages and closed his eyes once again. Being a snake, he curled up as much as inhumanely possible around his teddy bear that he grabbed hastily. The starry blanket was once again over his head and the comforting smell of linen filled his nostrils. Being alone was both agonizing but liberating at the same time.  
Finding himself sucking his thumb without realization made Crowley bite at the digit in frustration. These pathetic tendencies of his were getting worse and worse. Maybe if he just ...let go for a few weeks in solitude, the desire would exhaust itself for a while? The logic wasn’t sound but to the demon it was pure genius.

  
Eventually, he sat back up in bed and tucked his knees up to his chest. The blanket was wrapped around his shoulders, one hand rubbing against the soft fabric while the other was still occupied with the job of self-soothing. His apartment was high enough where no one could look in. Without his beloved sunglasses, Crowley’s amber eyes were big as he watched the clouds float along while the sun was high in the sky now. A flock of geese made their way by, in the typical V shape and honking wildly. The demon let out a small giggle behind his thumb, thinking the noises were humoring.

  
“They’re flyin’ so high …” he mused. It had been so long since he last did the same. Feel the wind in his hair and look down at everything God Herself was making below. But he ruined it by hanging out with the wrong crowd. Of course, his wings still worked but they were tainted and burned at the edges from sulfur. While the sleek ebony color of his wings suited Crowley more than they had previously; there was a reason why they never showed.

  
Feeling a deep pang in his heart, Crowley whimpered when he realized how disappointed She had been in him. He had been too curious. Too questioning. Sending him to create the stars was a sign of how much She loved him. And he ruined it all.

  
Memories of fire, screams, and the searing pain of falling flooded the serpent’s mind. Slipping further into his headspace, Crowley hid his face in his arms and shook like a leaf. Everything was so scary and too much now.

  
“I-I’m s-sorry-y, Mummy,” he croaked, tears streaming down his face. It was too late now. He slipped too far and it was too difficult to get out. There was no one to comfort him. Make the terrible memories go away and everything a bit nicer once again.  
Crowley cried and cried ...but She didn’t answer.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you couldn't tell: Crowley is my favorite and I love torturing him in all ways. It's too easy. Also, I'm about a quarter in the book itself and love it even more. It does mention that our beloved auburn demon does have to use the bathroom. Doesn't explain why though.
> 
> Please let me know what you think down below! I have an outline for the next two chapters but also let me know of any ideas you have as well! I have some of my own personal headcanons and ideas for this story that could be fluffed up a bit more.


	3. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Crowley finally gets out of bed and meets Aziraphale for dinner and dessert. Let's see how well that goes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I apologize for a shorter chapter today but I wanted to get something out for you all! Also, thank you so much for the support and love this fic has gotten! It means so much.
> 
> By the way, I actually looked up The Ritz in London and...someone take me there one day. It's gorgeous. Astronomically expensive...but beautiful nonetheless.
> 
> I haven't quite figured out footnotes, so my apologies. Coding is something I need to work on.

The demon continued to cry, sniffling and rubbing at his eyes. Quieting down to soft whimpers, Crowley continued to suck his thumb while watching the birds once again. Their calls didn’t make him giggle this time but did ease his pain fractionally. Continuing to feel miserable and oh so small, he pulled the blanket over his head to block the remaining light. It worked wonders, leaving just the star patterns in his vision.

In the rare times Crowley felt himself slip this far in his headspace, he noticed he didn’t speak much at all. Usually, the serpent would hum or mutter about how tremendously disappointing his plants were being today. Even when he was starting to regress, Crowley would still talk but often felt too embarrassed to let anyone hear his occasional hissing or childish speech. 

  
Being vulnerable had never been fun for him. So why would it be now?

  
Eventually, Crowley found himself drifting off to sleep for a couple of days, arising when the late afternoon sun beamed across his features. Letting out a groan and rubbing his eyes, Crowley miracled himself into a new outfit; too tired to go through the process of putting on those absurdly tight pants. His blanket and teddy bear were also gone, the demon feeling secure enough to not fall into his headspace.

Getting up and stretching, the cement floor cold enough to rip him from his drowsiness, Crowley decided to call Aziraphale. The demon wanted something to drink and forget for a short while about his pathetic meltdown previously. 

  
“Crowley? Awake already?” the angel’s cheery voice causing Crowley’s stomach to flip. 

  
“Course I’m awake, how else would I be calling?” 

  
“Oh...well, that’s true.” Aziraphale laughed nervously, “That new place that just opened down the road was simply wonderful. Would you like to go tonight?”

  
Crowley contemplated it before shaking his head, “Let’s go another time, angel. How about dinner? Our usual table.”

  
Trying to mask his disappointment at missing another opportunity of divine treats, Aziraphale still kept a smile, “That sounds good. I’ll meet you--” The angel’s words were interrupted by seeing a familiar figure and a black antique car outside the bookshop window. Hanging up and scurrying outside, Aziraphale gave the demon a knowing look. He noticed Crowley’s hair was even messier than it normally is, and his sunglasses were closer to his face this time...hiding whatever his eyes were saying.

  
“I’m surprised your nap was so short, Crowley. I expected you to be in a peaceful slumber for at least a few months,” the blond mentioned, blushing faintly when Crowley opened the passenger door for him. 

  
“I wanted alcohol. And drinking isn’t as fun if you’re alone,” the demon explained, causing Aziraphale to feel even more disappointment at the fact Crowley didn’t seem as charismatic as the occult normally is. He seemed...sharper than normal and almost impatient to get going.

  
Well, maybe that was normal?

  
The growing feeling that their dinner together wouldn’t be as enjoyable as it usually is, the angel got into his designated seat of the Bentley. He tried to keep his heart rate stable as Crowley sped through the streets of central London, avoiding pedestrians as much as a supernatural entity could going 90 miles an hour. The voice of Freddie Mercury desiring to ride his bicycle provided a minor distraction.

  
Soon enough, they arrived at their usual dining spot, got their usual reserved table, and for a moment it all felt normal. Until neither of them started talking. And when the wine menu was given to Crowley.

  
Their meal was unusually quiet, free from the musings of eventful past centuries or the playful banter that made them be mistaken for a married couple. Aziraphale would sneak a glance at his companion, noticing the number of empty glasses was only growing. 

  
“Crowley, are you sure you’re alright?” the principality worried, features shifting in that utterly adorable way Crowley hated. 

  
“Course I’m alright, I just slept for half a week,” he hissed, slamming down yet another empty glass onto the table. 

  
“It’s been quite a while since you’ve drank this much...perhaps even more than after the Library of Alex--”[[1]](https://archiveofourown.org/works/21128990/chapters/51079474/#note1)

  
“I don’t want to talk about it,” Crowley dismissed, his burning stare now making the angel shift uncomfortably in his seat. It seems like Aziraphale truly struck a nerve. 

  
More silence passed on until Aziraphale watched Crowley down his twentieth glass of wine. The demon was swaying in his seat, becoming too out of it to sober up. Aziraphale let out a sigh and soon they were back in the bookshop, the smell of old books and dust becoming a relief. [[2]](https://archiveofourown.org/works/21128990/chapters/51079474/#note2)

Crowley collapsed in one of the armchairs and didn’t protest the sudden change of environment. It was only a matter of time before The Ritz’s entire stock would have been gone. “Well, that wassss fun,” the demon slurred, a lazy grin adorning his features. A flailing limb tried to shoo Aziraphale away as the angel took off Crowley’s sunglasses. Serpentine eyes flicked around the room erratically before focusing on the figure in front of him.

  
“Whad you do that for?!” 

  
“It took much longer for your pupils to dilate, Crowley. You’re not going anywhere until you sober up. Whether it be the human way or another,” Aziraphale sniffed, placing the sunglasses on a nearby end table. 

  
“Wha’ever,” the occult growled, curling up in the armchair in a manner that made Aziraphale’s own joints hurt. “Guesss I’ll just sleep ‘ere then…” 

  
“Please do,” the blond replied and draped a quilt over his companion. Crowley was too drunk to protest once again and muttered his way into a tangent about ducks. How did water slide off them?  
Retrieving his beloved first edition of The Picture of Dorian Gray, Aziraphale listened to his demonic friend wonder aloud how a dentist of all people invented the electric chair.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 1 Apparently, only part of the Library of Alexandria was burned by Julius Caesar. The rest sort of...dwindled out of existence amidst all the rest of the chaos back then. I like to think Crowley was one of the last members and it still hurts his heart.[{return to text}](https://archiveofourown.org/works/21128990/chapters/51079474#return1)
> 
> 2 The bill was paid in full and the table was empty of wine glasses once the waiter came back. Let’s just say he was confused but the impossibly large tip made him forget.[{return to text}](https://archiveofourown.org/works/21128990/chapters/51079474#return2)


	4. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Another shorter chapter consisting of Crowley's drunken rants and Aziraphale's unconditional acceptance and love for all things. And...a not so wonderful discovery towards the end.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I apologize for such a long time in between chapters. Finals is coming sooner than I anticipated!
> 
> This fic has reached 1k hits and almost 100 kudos! Thank you all so much for the support and love.

Crowley remained awake, much to Aziraphale’s surprise, moving from the invention of the electric chair to musings about the centuries they’ve lived through.

“What about the 14th?” the angel inquired curiously, hiding a wicked smirk.

“...Nope,” Crowley answered, punctuating the word with a popping sound. “We’rrre not gonna talk about it.” 

_ I thought it was a rather lovely century...for the most part, _ Aziraphale thought to himself. It seems as though Crowley was still upset by its existence.

“Thisss one bloke, can’t remember hisss name,” Crowley continued, “Nearly ruined the whole...the whole…” he waved his hands around as if the word would appear in thin air. “Anywaysss, he wassss a bassstard and I hope he’sss off sssomewhere.” 

Aziraphale blinked and couldn’t figure out at all what Crowley was trying to say. There had been numerous times when they were apart so anything could have happened. The demon’s hissing was nothing new to him either. It only ever occurred It didn’t seem to bother the occult too much as he just skipped off onto the next subject: the logistics of other dimensions.

“Think of it, angel, there’sss no way on Earth we’re the only onesss around. It doesssn’t make any sssenssse! There hasss to be sssomething or sssomeone out there. ...Imagine jussst one dimensssion without iccce cream or...or even...or even one where dolphinsss are sssmarter than humansss! I mean...they are but...maybe they aren’t? Do you remember what I sssaid the lassst time we talked about thisss?”

“No, I don’t remember,” the angel answered plainly. But before he could ask Crowley what in Her name he was going on about, the demon once again moved onto another subject.

After a few minutes, there was silence and the angel looked over to see Crowley fast asleep. Without those dark sunglasses, the demon looked peaceful as he slept, making the angel’s heart warm. Fixing the quilt over his companion’s frame, Aziraphale gently patted the wild fluff of auburn hair before returning to his drinks and pile of books. 

Waking up to the sunlight hitting his face, the occult rubbed at his eyes and grabbed his sunglasses. Feeling like himself with them on, Crowley heard Aziraphale humming nearby. Thankfully, demons didn’t have hangovers and Crowley only felt a bit more tired than usual. 

“Oh, Crowley! You’re awake,” the angel beamed, “I made some green tea. Apparently, it helps you wake up in the morning, so I thought it would be good for you.”

Taking the cup and drinking it all in one go, Crowley felt the hot beverage warm his stomach and he did feel a little more awake. “I’ll be taking my leave, angel. I have some business to do.” And that “business” was to head home and take a nap. After seeing how his plants were holding up. Of course, Crowley was too busy grabbing for his jacket to see the look of disappointment on Aziraphale’s face. 

Even though the position he slept in was comfortable, Crowley often forgot he wasn’t entirely a snake anymore. The dull ache he normally had in his joints was now a bit sharper. Getting up from the couch, Crowley’s knees were still and only exacerbated the peculiar gait he already had. Aziraphale looked on in concern, but knew not to intrude for the demon becoming upset. 

“I’ll be heading home, angel. Sorry to bother you with last night. ...Thanks for looking after me,” the demon muttered, a faint hint of color dusting his cheeks. 

“Of course. It wouldn’t be right to have left you unattended. Though, please try to sober up next time,” the blond worried as the left the bookshop and wandered over towards the parked Bentley.

Sliding into the driver’s seat, Crowley looked on as Aziraphale fidgeted with his hands. It was rather… sweet like nearly everything else the principality did.

“Please be careful, Crowley. And let me know when you’d like to get together again,” the angel blushed lightly, “I still want to show you that lovely dessert place down the road.”

“I’m fine, angel. Next time I’ll remember to sober up,” Crowley replied, masking his softness for the angel with cool disinterest. “See you later.” He shut the car door and sped off into the streets. Glancing up at his rearview mirror, Crowley allowed a smirk when he saw Aziraphale wave goodbye.

Entering his apartment and sighing in relief at the sleek, hard environment, Crowley sauntered over to his plants and found no questionable behavior this time. “Right, seems as though you all finally listened to me. No leaf spots: no punishment from me,” he nodded and grabbed the plant mister. Of course, just because those viridian beauties had done so well… doesn’t mean they still couldn’t use encouragement.

“If I see anything out of place when I come back around, there will be Hell to pay. Do you understand me?!” he barked. Their leaves trembled to plead their cases but Crowley ignored them. 

Deciding to take a long soak in the bath, the demon started to strip off his clothing, tossing it to disappear. Ending with his boxers, Crowley found himself hiss in anger at what he found making his heart leap in his throat.

A damp spot was there, staining the charcoal fabric a darker color. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please comment below what you think! Is this fic going too fast? Or would you like more filler chapters/maybe flashbacks to previous events when Crowley slipped?


	5. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A small filler chapter exploring Crowley's little side. Is he finally accepting it? Or is he just letting it happen to allow himself to become more and more angry with his own issues? The world may never know.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've been on a roll with writing and I hope it doesn't stop! Thank you all again for so much support.

“Why me…?” Crowley sighed in defeat, staring at the spot as if it would eventually speed off and run away magically. But it didn’t. It simply was there. Reminding the demon of his weaknesses and his own body’s betrayal. “...It couldn’t have been the alcohol…” he lied to himself. “...That must’ve meant this happened...recently?” 

If only the demon accepted the truth that he had wet himself during dinner: too drunk to miracle the sensation away or be aware of anything besides drowning his own feelings in delicious red wine. But that would take time. And effort. And that wasn’t anything Crowley was ready for.

Letting out a growl of frustration, Crowley ripped off the undergarment. It smoldered to flame in his fist, ash fading away into nothing. The tub was filled with hot water, and Crowley curled up with a sigh. His heart was pounding in his chest from fear. His head was beginning to hurt as well, becoming aggravated once tears started to pour down his cheeks. A sob wracked through him without warning, leaving the demon to succumb to his emotions. 

His cries echoing in the room, Crowley tucked his knees up to his chest and sniffled, “W--Why me…?” Wishing the water would consume him and all would be forgotten, the occult coughed from crying so much. His chest felt like a paper bag, dry and crackling. “...I-I wan’ thisss to sssthop…” Crowley had no idea he was regressing. It was all so fast that he couldn’t climb back up to the realm of an adult headspace. 

A quiet splash startled the demon, leaving him to whimper quietly as he looked up from his lap. There was a small sailboat riding the wave, the white sails crisp and the wood dark. How did this happen? As Aziraphale said...She worked in mysterious ways.

Shyly reaching for the toy, Crowley moved it along the steamy water. It never cooled, simply because it was expected not to. “...Can I play with it?” the occult asked quietly to whoever was out there. The silence answered and Crowley let a small giggle escape his lips. Being in his headspace, everything felt so fast but...Crowley’s thoughts were too wild and mangled to fully process it all. Right now: he had some fun things to do.

Plunging the sailboat under the water and watching it float to the top, Crowley laughed harder. “It-It came back!” His tear-stained cheeks flushed with color as he heard his laugh echo against the bathroom rather than his cries. But now his sailboat would feel neglected if he kept focusing on himself. The imaginary people on the sailboat couldn’t do anything!

“...Noah’sss Ark but...nicer,” Crowley nodded to himself, “...All the kidsss are sssafe...l-like I made sssure they were.” The demon blushed deeper as he remembered how much the kids adored him, begging Crowley to play games with them instead of hiding in the darkness.

Playing in the water for almost an hour, Crowley sighed when he realized he couldn’t stay there forever. He wanted to… and he was fully well and able to do so… but wouldn’t feel right.

Snapping his fingers and now on his bed, Crowley was now fully clothed in a comfortable pair of pajama pants and a t-shirt. He hoped his new pair of boxers wouldn’t need to be burned like the previous pair. His hair was dry and fluffy, smelling of white tea and mint. 

While the sick feeling in his gut remained, Crowley decided to allow himself this. Subconsciously, he knew this would only aggravate his shame and self-loathing. Consciously, he didn’t care right now. 

His star blanket wrapped around his frame and his teddy bear in his lap, Crowley fixed his sunglasses. The light was a bit too much right now, like it always was. It was now early afternoon and Crowley sucked his thumb as a tiny collection of blocks appeared on his bed. A squeal made Crowley jump out of his skin before realizing it came from him. His face flushed red and tears pricked at his eyes. What a pathetic sound. It ruined the demon’s mood entirely and he kicked the blocks off the bed. The only sounds in the apartment were Crowley’s heavy breathing and the blocks clattering to the floor.

Wiggling under his mound of blankets on his bed, Crowley shoved his face in his teddy bear. Rubbing the corner of the starry fabric with his free hand, Crowley allowed more tears to fall. Snuggling under the covers, Crowley whispered to his teddy bear, “Ni-night…” His thumb slipped in his mouth and the demon fell asleep. He dreamed of blond curls and warm cups of tea. The star blanket, once again, did a wonderful job of soaking up tears.


	6. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A short chapter purely meant to get the plot moving!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So...that writing marathon I was talking about last chapter? Yeah, that disappeared quickly...  
But I think I'm slowly getting back into writing more! I started a BnHA fic which has sparked my desire again!  
Thank you all for being so patient and so kind! All of the comments and support really mean a lot to me.

It was an understatement to say Aziraphale was worried. He was always anxious about something, whether or not it’s visible. He worried about whether or not crepes would one day go out of style, if there was a stain on his coat he couldn’t see, and whether or not Crowley was taking care of himself.

Of course, Aziraphale knew the answer to the last was no. Crowley looked after the angel numerous times, namely saving his precious books from the aftermath of a bomb. It was a profound act to Aziraphale...and from that moment on he was in love. Even more so than he already was. He loved all of Her creatures, and Crowley was one of the first ones She made. 

Realizing again that he was in love with Crowley, more so than he was with anyone She made… Aziraphale’s cherubic cheeks turned pink.

Speaking of Her, the demon didn’t speak about “before” much at all. The few times Aziraphale inquired about it, Crowley would wave a hand and say, “Can’t remember...too long ago” or his voice would drift off to a time unknown as he recalled “hanging out with the wrong people.” As curious as Aziraphale was, he knew that string was not to be struck. He hoped someday Crowley would be able to tell as much as he was able in order for the angel to understand. To understand who Crowley was and how he came to be. From Crawly to Crowley. Aziraphale wasn’t aware of the missing piece.

Taking a sip of his cocoa, Aziraphale sighed as he looked up from his book to gaze at the other books he owned. As much as he truly enjoyed quiet moments like these, the blond desired company. Crowley was surely going to nap for the next week or so… perhaps even longer if the demon wanted. While Aizraphale was sure there was some pleasure to be had in sleeping for a few hours or decades, the angel just couldn’t get himself to do that yet. After all, so much can happen in such a short period of time! He dreaded to think how much he would miss.

Right now, in typical London fashion, it was pouring outside which left the air heavy. While pleased that this weather would help Crowley sleep, Aziraphale felt...lonely.

While the times the two entities shared were often brief or far apart until now after the Not Apocalypse, Aziraphale knew something was wrong the other day. Sure, Crowley would want to drink and have a great time, but he was talkative when he did. This time, he was sullen and silent until they arrived at the bookshop. Even before that, Aziraphale could feel the demon’s sour mood but knew better than to inquire about it. 

Even though Aziraphale was aware that he needed to respect Crowley’s privacy and emotions...it still irked the angel that something was wrong. It was obvious that Crowley had some… issues and Aziraphale wanted nothing more than to help. He could make things easier for Crowley and make him happier.

Pacing around the bookshop, Aziraphale sighed as he tried to come up with a plan. Crowley was an impossibly heavy sleeper, so nothing would wake him up apart from willpower. Maybe if he were to enter Crowley’s apartment… Aziraphale might have a better idea of what’s going on. He read somewhere that humans subconsciously show their mental states through their living spaces. And himself and Crowley were the only supernatural entities that spent a vast majority of their existence with humans.

Deciding that was the best course of action, otherwise, Crowley’s mood would only become worse as time passed, Aziraphale took a deep breath as he fixed his jacket. 

“I don’t think he’ll mind me visiting, even if he’s asleep,” Aziraphale lied to himself, snapping his fingers and disappearing into thin air.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please let me know what you think! Next chapter will be heavier in plot and longer.


	7. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> What does Aziraphale find in Crowley's apartment?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope everyone is doing okay during these odd times! I apologize for such a long wait and I'm hoping to slowly get back into the gears of writing. I started my BnHA fic a while ago so hopefully that and this fic can be my two projects for a long time! 
> 
> This is a shorter chapter just to get the wheels turning once again!
> 
> Thank you to everyone for the lovely comments and kudos!

Looking around, Aziraphale let out the softest sigh as he saw how bleak the apartment still was. In Crowley’s throne room, because of course, the demon would have one, the principality tried to be as quiet as a mouse. He hoped She wouldn’t mind him persuading away the sounds he was making. This was for Crowley’s sake. 

Aziraphale had suggested adding more life into the demon's home. Maybe a few more plants that  _ weren’t _ terrified of being clipped away, fairy lights, or a nice, cozy couch that one could curl up on during a rainy day. Crowley would simply roll his eyes and remark that it wasn’t his style. 

Treading lightly across the cement flooring, Aziraphale could see ahead a sleeping figure. But what was covering the figure intrigued the angel more. It was a fluffy, navy blue blanket with stars on it. He thought it was rather cute. Then Aziraphale remembered who was underneath the blanket. Crowley didn’t seem the type to have something… cute, would he?

Beginning to circle around the bed and hearing even breaths from Crowley, Aziraphale startled when he kicked something. A colorful wooden block skid across the floor before stopping a few inches forward. Then the angel noticed there were more of them. All bright colors and assorted shapes in order to create something if one so wished. Deciding it would look suspicious if he were to tidy up, Aziraphale carefully stepped over them and continued on. That was rather strange… Crowley never mentioned an affinity for toys, particularly ones geared towards human children. Turning the corner and seeing the bathroom, Aziraphale took a deep breath before entering. As close as he and Crowley were, the angel still felt rather uncomfortable with invading the demon’s lodging like this. But he had to remind himself this was for Crowley’s own good. And Aziraphale would be damned if he wasn’t going to figure this out. 

The bathroom appeared normal: clean and hygiene products carefully organized. The same monochrome color palette that Crowley enjoyed of blacks, whites, and grays was repeated in the bathroom. Until Aziraphale saw a shape in the water. 

Peering over, Aziraphale couldn’t help but smile widely when he recognized what he saw. A sailboat! How adorable. The angel thought a nice rubber ducky would pair well with that. 

Resisting the urge to conjure one up, Aziraphale shoved his hands in his coat pockets and left the bathroom. It seemed as though Crowley had an interest in cute things and rather childish things. It made Aziraphale’s heart even warmer. Maybe that was what Crowley was hiding? No… it would be more serious than that. Serious enough that Crowley would drink himself into a stupor and act even more standoffish than he already did.

Knowing Crowley’s kitchen would be empty (why he even had one was confusing to Aziraphale since the demon never cooked), the blond decided to see if he could find anything else. Hoping She would allow another miracle, Aziraphale had all the drawers and cupboards open at once without a sound. Smiling at Her kindness, Aziraphale smiled up at the ceiling. “Thank you,” he mouthed. 

Finding all of the cupboards and drawers empty, the principality hoped he would find something to help this mystery. Deciding to look through the last drawer, Aziraphale was rather puzzled with what he found. 

A human pacifier? The ones that babies and small toddlers used? 

It was rather large, which Aziraphale assumed would be for fitting in an adult’s mouth. It was completely gray apart from a green cartoon snake on the button of it. It hadn’t looked like it had been used yet but the packaging was absent. 

Deciding he had found what he needed, Aziraphale closed the final drawer and heard Crowley continue to sleep. The demon was still covered by his blanket and Aziraphale sighed before returning to his bookshop. The smell of old books and dust eased Aziraphale’s anxiety that he had hardly noticed was brimming. Deciding to boot up his old, old desktop computer that was surely a decade behind, Aziraphale knew the best way to figure out why Crowley had these items: research!

It took about twenty minutes to be able to search on Google, which Aziraphale thought was a rather funny word. Pondering on what to type into the incredible “search bar”, the blond decided on searching “adult pacifier”. He had been teased and reprimanded by Crowley about a dozen times when it came to entering questions rather than keywords. “No one is going to bloody know what you’re looking for, angel,” the demon would say, “Just look up the important bits.”

Another five minutes to load the results and Aziraphale was immediately intrigued. It seemed that adult pacifiers were for people who were “age-regressors” or “littles”. Conjuring a lovely cup of black tea, Aziraphale settled down in his chair and spent the next several hours researching. He read online forums discussing and educating on what this sort of thing was. It seemed wonderfully sweet and warmed the angel’s heart of how simply darling humans could be. It also pained Aziraphale that many of the members in this “community” felt as though they needed to hide it from the world and keep it deeply private. Was that Crowley’s problem? Was he ashamed of this like some of the people said they were at the beginning? Did he think that Aziraphale would judge him? 

Frowning, the angel looked into his tea and sighed, “Oh, Crowley… please don’t feel ashamed.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> By the way, I know "age-regressors" and "littles" are different in certain aspects. I like to think that Crowley is a combination of both. He uses this to heal trauma and also as part of a lifestyle. Well... sort of. When he becomes comfortable: he will!
> 
> Please stay safe and well as much as you are able!

**Author's Note:**

> Please let me know what you think below!


End file.
